Thought Catalog

My Co-Worker And I Just Fucked Our Brains Out At A Company Event (And We’re Both Girls)

Posted: 13 Aug 2016 07:45 PM PDT


They say everyone needs a ‘work wife’ and, I’m sorry but girls are no exception.

Karlie was absolutely, without question my favorite part of my job. When I started working for the tech start up I wasn’t really sure what it was going to be like, or if it’d even be up my alley at all. But Karlie made it so much fun, even if the job wasn’t necessarily what I saw myself doing for the rest of my life.

We just instantly clicked. We had the same dirty sense of humor, no holding back kind of personality, and just got each other. Most of my days were spent g-chating Karlie while clicking away, or mentally making notes for what to tell her at our inevitable 5:30 happy hour we hit almost every day. She was just the best.

And, naturally, it didn’t hurt that she was absolutely fucking stunning.

She was the type of girl who clearly made every girl intimidated by her good looks. She was tall, legs for days, and had this mane of honey blonde hair that even Blake Lively would have been jealous of. It was basically criminal that someone as beautiful as her also had the brains to be the intellect behind a social media start up – but there we were.

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’d definitely had a crush on her that exceeded our ‘work wife’/bff relationship. But I’d also been burned many times by reading too far into my friendships with straight girls, and I wasn’t looking to lose my favorite part of this job over an awkward make out session. So every time Karlie’s hand lingered on my thigh I chalked it up to her red wine hitting her a little hard. Every time we locked eyes a little longer than normal, it was just us being super close. Every time it seemed like she thought about leaning in somewhere else when whispering my ear, that it was all in my head.

That is, until our company party the other night.

We had had a pretty ambitious goal set for the month for traffic and various internet-y things. I won’t bore you with the details – it’s all very tech of us. But regardless, it was basically insinuated that if we were to hit said goal, we’d have no CHOICE but to celebrate it. So when we all saw that two comma number flash, and heard we’d officially hit this metric, we knew it was on.

A rooftop deck was rented out for the following Friday, and we all scampered there after work with the promise of all night dancing, an open bar, and all you could eat bacon wrapped figs and other hors d’oeuvres. Karlie and I made our way to the bar where she promptly ordered two glasses of champagne, with two shots of Jameson to start.

“Oh my god, you’re TRYING to get me drunk,” I joked as I lifted my whiskey in ‘cheers’ with her.

“Of course I am,” she laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “How the fuck else am I supposed to get lucky tonight?”

We clinked shot glasses before tossing back the liquor and both wincing slightly. She cheers-ed me again with her champagne this time before taking a dainty sip.

“All right,” she said, wiping any residual whiskey away from the corner of her mouth.

“Ready to get into some trouble?”

The next few hours were a blur of drinking, dancing, toasting the company and toasting being “boss ass bitches” with Karlie and our other work friends. We downed more whiskey, chasing it with bubbly we didn’t have to pay for, and just generally acted like 20-somethings celebrating getting to work on the internet in a big city. It was 100% as fun as it sounds.

In the middle of sunset, after our boss’s speech about “moving forward” and “continuing with this truly impressive momentum” that took all of 20 minutes, I felt Karlie grab my hand.

“I can tell my lipstick looks like shit, come with me,” she slurred slightly before yanking me up.

I giggled and tossed back the last of my champagne before following behind her, clinging to her hand as the alcohol made me smile bigger than usual and made my head a little fuzzy.

Once we were in the obnoxiously lavish bathroom with its sitting area and various sprays and mints laid out “just in case”, Karlie propped herself up on the counter, swinging her perfectly tanned legs.

“Oh my GOD,” she sighed, cracking her neck. “I’m sorry I just needed a second.”

I shook out my hair and flopped down on one of the soft pink sofas, rolling one of my ankles as I pulled off both my heels.

“Don’t even sweat it,” I said, hearing the smoothness from being sufficiently buzzed in my voice. “I’m glad to have a minute away from all of the crazy.”

Karlie snorted, hopping off of the counter and looking at herself in the mirror. I watched as she moved little hairs out of the way and pushed her pillowy lips together.

“Yo…” she began, almost awkwardly.

“Yo what?” I responded.

“Can I ask you a weird question?”

I rolled my eyes. “Asking if you can ask a weird question is already asking a fucking weird question, Karlie.”

She stuck out a middle finger at me in between swipes of chapstick.

“Have you like…ever thought about hooking up with anyone from the office?”

My heart stopped. I stared at her blankly, with no words.

She whirled around, a look of pure trouble on her face.


She elongated the “insult” as she made her way over to me, flopping down on the same little couch.

“Silence is a yes, spill. Spare no details,” she said, flipping those same tan, silky, irresistible legs over my lap.

I looked at my cuticles attempting to think of the perfect answer.

“I mean,” I began slowly. “Maybe there’s someone I’ve thought about as more than just a work wife,” I concluded before looking up at her from under my lashes.

Karlie laughed quietly, almost devishly, throwing her hair over her head.

“Give it up. Tell me,” she dared me.

I laughed nervously and stared up at the ceiling.

“I don’t know dude…”

She forcibly grabbed my chin, making me look at her. I felt my heart drop into my stomach my adrenaline instantly rise.

“Lo,” she said slowly. “I said give it up.” Her voice was more quiet, more purposeful.

So I leaned in.

And I kissed her.

And for some reason…she kissed me back.

Our hands were tangled up in each other’s hair, fingers getting lost as our tongues wrapped together. Her lips were just as soft as I’d always imagined. She tasted like whiskey and peppermint.

I grabbed both of her shoulders and pushed her back slightly.

“Wait…” I began. “I know I’m going to kill myself for saying this, but you know you don’t have to do this just for me…right?”

Karlie leaned forward, her teeth lightly grazing the side of my neck and sending shivers down my spine.

“I’ve been thinking about doing this for months,” she purred.

I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her on top of me, her dress hiking up as she straddled over my hips. Her hands slid up my sides as we were making out pulling the straps from my top over the tops of my shoulders. Once my chest was exposed she yanked my bralette over my head, tossing it aside on the marble floor.

I gasped as she moved away from kissing me to taking one nipple in her mouth. She swirled her tongue around expertly as I guided my hands down her back, and teased the hemline of her dress with my fingertips. She firmly grabbed my wrists and pinned them over my head, breaking away from tonguing at my breasts.

“No,” she said in a husky tone I’d never heard her use before.

“I’m going to make you beg first.”

God, I was so wet after hearing her say that.

She planted another firm kiss on my mouth and undid my jeans with one hand, the other holding my hands above my head on the couch. I was throbbing, my body wanted her so bad.

I cried out and she silenced me with her mouth as I felt her finger tickle my clit. She lightly tapped, a slow smile growing across her face and she felt me squirming underneath her.

She flipped her hair over one shoulder and continued sucking on my earlobe, my neck as her fingers traced up and down, back and forth over my wet pussy. I thrusted my hips up, my body begging her to do more. She made a soft ‘come hither’ motion over me and I moaned louder, more desperate.

“Karlie,” I groaned. “Oh my god…”

She bit down on one of my hard nipples and I cried out.

“Tell me you want me,” she instructed.

“I want you,” I obeyed. “I want you so fucking bad.”

She clapped her hand over my mouth, freeing my wrists as her other hand plunged into me. I bucked against her, getting wetter and wetter as she circled inside of me with her fingers. Her thumb continued playing with my clit, and I was melting into a puddle underneath her.

“Get up, turn around,” I gasped slightly between moans and she continued getting me more turned on than I’d ever been.

She shook her head, those blonde locks shaking.

“Not until I hear you scream.”

She planted one more kiss on my mouth before sinking below my bellybutton, and kissing my lower stomach.

I clapped both hands over my mouth when I felt her tongue hit me. There’s something different about when a woman goes down on you versus a guy. A guy always has to think about it, a woman just knows.

And Karlie was no exception.

Her tongue danced across me and circled around my clit like she’d been playing with me for years. Her middle finger kept moving around inside of me, playing with my G-Spot, while she licked my most sensitive parts. She sucked on my clit and would break away every now and then to nibble at my inner thighs and look up at me and smile that same sexy smile, and then she’d dive back down and keep going, pushing in harder whenever she’d hear me moan.

I felt her push two more fingers inside of me and felt the familiar rush of heat to my chest as her tongue moved harder, more purposefully over my clit.

“Karlie,” I whimpered. “Karlie…I’m…”

“Shhhhhh,” she whisperer between licks. “Just let it happen.”

I felt my mouth gape slightly and my body go numb for a second before the familiar rush of electricity came over me.

“Oh my god,” I moaned. “Oh my god, I’m cumming…Karlie I’m cumming.”

She kept licking and sucking, her fingers pumping in and out of me as I moaned and shivered into her hands. I felt a pool underneath me and heard her giggle slightly as she collapsed on top of me and we both panted and tried to catch our breath.

I instinctually covered my chest after a few moments, suddenly incredibly aware that I was naked with one of my best friends. I’m pretty sure she caught me blushing and she giggled again, planting a kiss on my cheek.

“So…” I awkwardly began.

“So what?” she replied, almost daring me.

“Well,” I said slowly, thoughtfully.

“It’s probably going to be an HR violation if I don’t make you cum now, right?” TC mark

This Is The Honest Fucking Truth About Being In Your Own Head During Sex

Posted: 13 Aug 2016 07:15 PM PDT


It's definitely a duh that sex can be complicated. That's just how it works. And for that we can thank our lovely little pea brains for psyching us out and fucking it up.

Should I go harder? Slower? Make more noise? Did he really just say that? Should I say something back? Did I like that he just said that? Is this position ok? Is he bored? Should we stay here? Flip over? How do I look? Do I smell nice? Is it too soon? Am I good? What's he thinking? (Whoa. Whoa. And whoa.) Stop.

I get it. You want to be good. You want to make sense of the situation. But when this happens–when your mind becomes more powerful than your body and you end up trying to make so much sense of the moment in your head, while being a tad self-conscious and wanting to do everything the right way, you basically end up sucking in bed. No bueno. Dead fish. Vanilla. Basic. Boring. Donzo. Anxious minds kill sex.

For me this is a sign that I don't even like the guy. When suddenly I am way too aware of my body and have to remind myself of what to do, instead of just doing it naturally, and when I judge every little thing he does and says like it's the deal-breaker I'd been subconsciously waiting for. Like seriously, is this guy really fucking me right now like he's a Dothraki? And no, man, squeezing your balls doesn't really sound like a great idea at all to me. And then there I go. My mind analyzing every little thing to disgust before I start thinking about anything and everything else just to deal with it–because whatever this is, I'm so over it. I think of a new vibrator, a vacation, sleeping in, that one dudes name from Denver, and how to make punch. But then I have to remind myself: Wait! You're fucking. Focus! This is when I have to depend on my mind to help me back into the moment. I think back to every porno I've ever seen, as my face looks like I'm squeezing in a loud sneeze. But the moment's gone. And that's when I end up feeling nothing but way too old to have such empty, strange and calculated sex. Another thought that's really, really bad timing.

Of course you could really like a guy, too, and still really be in your head about it. You want to impress him so badly that you keep thinking about what you should be doing next and what he might want you to do. You got moves, surprises, tricks. It's all worked before. But then you start freaking out a little. Because all you keep thinking about is what you're going to do two minutes from now, instead of paying attention to what's actually going on, and to what your body is actually feeling. And then something happens and you're not prepared for it and now the vibe is weird and you're frozen and you don't know what to do and now you're going crazy and on the way to vanillaville.

And shit! What's he thinking now? Does he still like you? Is he hearing crickets? Did he just lose his boner or did he need to cool down for a second? Yeah, no. He probably just lost his boner, because you suck. Because you were trying too hard to be good and it had the totally opposite effect. This was bad. Bad, right? Damn! And then there's the monsoon of freak-out thoughts that paralyze you and now you feel unfuckable for life. Barren dick land is where you belong. And he knows it, too. It's over. (And that's when you try to make sense of it, again and again, even after it's all over, and it all just keeps going and going and going.) Anxious minds kill sex. It must be said again.

So here's the bottom line: If you don't like the guy at all and it's impossible for you to get off regardless of that lackluster connection, then thank your mind for intervening so you can learn from the situation and go find someone whose every move in bed drives you completely insane without having to force it.


If you do like the guy, then tell your over-analyzing brain to STFU so you can pay attention to the moment and how you're feeling and trust that you will know exactly what to do if you just let yourself be free. It's kind of like riding a bike. Don't think so much about it that it psyches you out. Just ride. TC mark

These Are The Ridiculous Money Mistakes 20-Somethings Are Guilty Of (And How To Avoid Them)

Posted: 13 Aug 2016 06:15 PM PDT


1. Not opening a 401k.
Typically, when you land a full-time job with benefits, signing on for the company's 401(k) is a perk you're given upfront. In signing up, your company will often offer to match your full contribution, which is as close to free money as you can get. From a growth perspective, your 401(k) will always do better when you start contributing earlier, simply because there are more years between you and your retirement. In your 20s, the money you put in your 401k has the potential to grow for 30+ years, so time really is of the essence. Avoiding this mistake is simple; if you're offered a 401k with full matching, sign up immediately.

2. Prioritizing student loan debt over credit card debt.
Credit card debt accrues interest the fastest and is, therefore, the most likely to get out of hand. The average APR (annual percentage rate) is about 15% on credit cards, in comparison to student loan interest rates, which are closer to 4%-6%. In general, get-out-of-debt-quick plans should start with credit card debt, because that is probably the biggest blemish on your financial health record. To avoid mistakes like these, make sure you understand the fine print that comes along with any debt you sign on for. It's not enough to only know the Reader's Digest version of your financial picture.

3. Not talking about money.
Especially in your 20s, you're going to have a lot of money questions that you don't have the answers to. One of the biggest mistakes you can make is ignoring those questions. Ask a professional. Ask the internet, but make sure you're researching on credible sites, and looking at multiple sources. Ask your friends, family, or someone you trust who is good with money. Don't just be silent.

4. Keeping a running balance on your credit card.
Let's get one thing straight: the words "keeping a balance on your credit card will help your credit," when arranged in that order, are BLATANTLY FALSE. A running credit card balance isn't improving your credit. Paying your statement balance in full every month is improving your credit. Keeping a few thousand dollars in debt on your credit card is costing you more than just that money — it's also costing you the too-high interest rates. The easiest way to avoid this is to only put things you know you'll be able to pay off within the billing cycle on your credit card.

5. Living somewhere that's way too expensive.
The often-cited rule is you should not be paying more than one third of your income. However, 20-somethings who have just moved to a new city tend to favor walking the line of this rule. When you add utilities, other bills, 401k contributions, and student loan payments to a rent that's a third of your income, you're paying out quite a bit of the money you're bringing in. If you're moving for a job, don't forget to ask about relocation costs and find out if they are willing to reimburse you for those expenses. And while it might be a frustrating choice, opting for a longer commute for cheaper living expenses might be the way to go for your first couple years out of college.

6. Taking out student loans you don't need.
When you're in college, it can almost feel like taking out an extra loan to pad your living expenses is encouraged. And while living expense loans in college make sense for some, taking out more than you really need (like the college students who took out loans so they could cover their not-so-necessary shopping) can catch up with you later. The thing to remember is that you're not just borrowing the money to buy a new purse. You're also paying interest on that purse, possibly for the next 20 years of your life. If you're looking to avoid taking out too much, calculate your tuition and cost of living (per semester or per year) before dealing with the bursar's office and loan disbursements.

7. Not saving an emergency fund.
An emergency fund is your first line of defense against credit card debt. However, when your rent prices are rising faster than your salary, it's not surprising that saving an emergency fund doesn't occur to a lot of people in their 20s. To avoid this mistake, start small and get consistent. Put away whatever you can afford to each month, and try to stick to a goal amount, even if it's only $20 a month. Ultimately, your emergency fund should end up being three to six months of living expenses, but obviously, Rome wasn't built in a day. TC mark

5 Reasons To Let Go Of The Boy Not Meant For You

Posted: 13 Aug 2016 05:15 PM PDT

Helga Weber
Helga Weber

1. He's a constant reminder that you're not good enough (for him).

No matter how much you try, every angle you hit, he'll only ever tell you why he doesn't love you. He'll constantly compare you to all of the girls he has had in the past or currently wants. Reminding you of all the things they possess that you never will. Yet, he will take you into his arms when he's drunk and lonely telling you you're the best thing he's ever had. News flash—you're his practice round for the real thing. You're the preseason, he's looking for the NBA, and you just don't cut it.

2. He'll treat you like sh!t; you'll treat him like a god.

He takes out his anger on you when another girl is mean to him or doesn't give him what he wants. You're his punching bag. You think that if you can withstand his hurtful words and "see" through his bull-crap that it somehow makes you tough and he'll want you more. Unfortunately, in reality, you're only enabling his childish behavior which is doing neither of you any good.

3. He'll tear you down only to bring you up when he's lonely.

He'll scream and yell at you, telling you he'll never love you because he's insecure with himself. You'll threaten to block him and maybe you actually will. Until, he finds a way to get in contact with you, telling you sweet nothings:

• I'm sorry, I'm an asshole
• I'm a child, I know, you're right
• You don't deserve something like this, I'm so sorry

But 5 minutes later, after his "apology" he'll ask if you want to hang out later. You'll give into him, say yes, and if you're lucky maybe for a week, he'll be nice to you. Then repeat.

4. He'll never appreciate, respect, or understand your worth.

If he's treated you like sh!t once, apologized, and still hasn't changed then he has nor never will appreciate, respect, or ever understand you.

5. You've got to grow up and start loving yourself because he sure never will.

Screw his bull-crap. Maybe it was cute then, but it shouldn't be now. You need to grow up and so does he. If you really love him you'll cut him out of your heart and out of your life. Do this so you can regain love for yourself that you lost giving to him. All you can do is hope that maybe he can do the same.

We all want to be someone's everything, but you just have to accept the fact that you're not his. Take what Drake says, "It's not the end of the world, it's just the end of the world that you had with…" one guy. I wish you all the best. TC mark

What I Realized After Trying (And Failing) To Run Away From My Life

Posted: 13 Aug 2016 04:30 PM PDT / piskunov / piskunov

Do you know the feeling you can get when you run? The harsh pounding of the wind against your chest, your legs jolted by the bounce on the pavement, the endless expanse of clouds swallowing up every other thought in the world? The feeling that nothing else exists? In that moment, nothing matters but the feeling of flight.

I'm not a runner by any means. In fact, I hate running. But I have run away from many things – emotions, feelings and circumstances that have made me feel uncomfortable.

It was how I thought I was surviving fine, when really I was merely getting through.

I've never run — or wanted to run in — a marathon, but I have been through a marathon of surgeries — 27 to be exact. Surgeons fondly call me a "surgical disaster" or compare my intestines to "a glob of boiled spaghetti." These amazing surgeons ingeniously created a digestive system for me after organ failure and a gastrectomy my senior year of high school.

Because there had never been a case like mine, there were no promises made. The day of my 21st birthday, I was able to try my first bite of food in three years after 13 surgeries — a frozen waffle, at my request. After being so grateful I could finally eat and drink again after three years of playing with empty water bottles, I could have never anticipated the 14 surgeries that would follow, each one an attempt to fix a wound that had ruptured or stitch that had burst loose.

Every time I had a medical setback, doctors advised me to just "stop eating and drinking for now." I was put back on IVs, and suddenly I had to switch to "machine mode." As the obedient patient, I did this for several years. It was an odd mix of staying numb, isolated and distracted, as well as crying with my mother and amazing support system.


Being "numb" to my circumstances was probably the easiest way to deal with them. I didn't have to think, feel or be aware of the reality I numbed myself through by locking myself in my room and typing for hours. When I became desperate to "feel," I started cooking for my family as an attempt to experience the human sensations of hunger without actually feeding myself. I was hungry for food, for life and for the emotions that come with humanity – emotions which I had to temporarily put "on hold." I either felt numb or painfully sad, and there didn't seem to be an opportunity for any new feelings to grow. If I wasn't numb, then I'd start crying, getting anxious and tense — and immediately think back to my surgeries, to my life before surgery, and a hate for the path my life had taken.

But part of feeling human is feeling angry. Part of feeling human is becoming frustrated at, worried and anxious about circumstances beyond our control.

Part of feeling human is becoming overwhelmed with the agonizing question, "Why me?" as we shake our fist to the sky, wondering why life can be so unfair.

In April 2011, I had just been told to stop eating and drinking, once again, in order to heal a fistula. Unfortunately, I knew this routine all too well because I had had several fistulas develop from previous surgeries. I tried to distract myself, numb myself and get from day to day as diligently as possible.

One morning, I woke up with such a fire in my gut, an anger that was so overwhelming that the energy frightened me. I didn't know what to do with it and the emotions were too overpowering to try to numb them. My thoughts and feelings were threatening to swallow me whole.

With not a rational thought in my head, I ran out the door and just started running. I didn't know where, for how long or why, but it was the adrenaline of panic — I felt "unsafe" in my situation and wanted to get as far away from it as I could. I had never felt an energy like this before, a red-hot high through my legs, tingling in my chest, tears caught in my eye-sockets that I hoped the wind bashing across my face might dry up.

I kept running and running, as far away from my life as I could. I was too scared to kill myself, and I didn't think I wanted to, either. I wanted a middle ground – just to exist in another world, and if I ran long enough, I'd get there, somehow, somewhere.

I ran for three hours before I found a highway, and without thinking, I started running onto the shoulder of the it. I thought, "The farther I go, the further this will all be behind me." Of course, of all days I decide to run for my life, it starts to rain…and thunder. Suddenly, the highway was flooded, I was drenched and I had cars beeping at me, wondering what a frail little girl in a T-shirt was doing running on the shoulder of the highway.

It was only a matter of time before a police car pulled up to me and asked me to get inside. I was shaking, angry, confused, embarrassed and nervous — like I had just gotten my first detention in school. He said, "I've gotten about 30 calls in the past 20 minutes saying this 80-pound-girl is running on the shoulder of the highway. Where did you think you were going?"

I was upset that my escape had been halted, and suddenly very ashamed.

Wiping away tears, I stammered, "To the mall."

"You thought you could get to the mall on the shoulder of the highway?"


He turned around and looked at me for a brief pause and said, "I can drive you to the mall."

I refused to look at him, pressed my elbows into my sides and barely whispered, "No, I'll go home."

He called my worried parents our way home, saying I was OK and we were on our way home. My mother, after recovering from her concerned rage, asked me what on Earth I thought I was doing. I told her simply that I was trying to escape. I didn't want to deal with this anymore. I was frustrated with my body and I couldn't take living under these circumstances for an "indefinite" amount of time.

All she said was, "But you took your body with you."

I knew that running on the shoulder of the highway is illegal and there are much easier ways to get to the mall. But what I really wanted was others to know I was having such a hard time — that even with my numbness, discipline and "indomitable" spirit, I needed support. I needed someone to realize I was suffering and talk to me, even if they couldn't fix it for me. I needed someone to remind me why I should still love life.

I didn't want to kill myself because in my heart, I knew how much I adored life. But I needed a break. I wanted life to get easier.

I was sick of living in fear, wading in uncertainty and reflecting on a former life that I was never able to get back before my coma at the age of 18 — a time when life is supposed to open infinitesimal doors.

Then I remembered times in my life that I was happy. I tried to remember what the circumstances were, what I was thinking, who was around me, what I was doing. And they were small moments.

Then I realized, it wasn't feeling "happy" I was chasing after, it was feeling "alive." I remembered crying over my grandmother's death and missing her delicate, wrinkly fingers tightly gripped around mine. I remembered waking up in the hospital after my coma and feeling sadness, but also a sense of wonderment, like I was rediscovering the world and seeing nature for the first time. Those were "life-shock" moments — moments infused with humanity, rather than the numb disconnected feeling of estrangement that now seemed to torment every second. They were moments I felt connected.


When I finally got home that rainy April day, I wanted to see how much I still cared. I also wanted to remember why I had fought so hard for so long to still be here, and why giving up at this point would cheat me out of any feelings of aliveness that may exist in my future. I had no proof that things would get better, but I did have a few solid things at that moment that I could stand on and anchor myself to, just to get me through.
In that very moment:

I had my mother who was worried sick about me, and my whole family for that matter.

I had my body with a heart that was beating strongly, boldly, proudly and alive.

I had the rain on my skin and the feeling of being wet, of feeling sensations on this earth.

I had a single tear finally emerge from the numbness, from the anger, a tear that reminded me how much I really do love life, even though it may be hard right now.

I had hope. Even if for now it was just a silly lie I could tell myself. It's OK to make silly lies. It's a creative start to cultivating hope.

I had life. Whatever it was, I had in my hands — a thing called "life." An entity that was way too huge for me to make any final decisions about now. TC mark

This story was published on The Mighty, a platform for people facing health challenges to share their stories and connect.

10 Reasons Why Girls Who Are Totally Confident Are The Best To Be Around

Posted: 13 Aug 2016 04:15 PM PDT


1. They wear whatever they want.
Try telling a confident girl how to dress in mid-August. Just go ahead, try.

See…you won't do it, because they will seriously laugh in your face. Plus you'll just fuel the extra ammo they needed to turn around and rock that crop top on without a care in the world. They wear what they like, when they like, how they like, and they don't let eye rolls get in the way of that. I mean, their basic MO is –If you don't like my outfit, then why are you looking at me in the first place?– Preach.

2. They say no.
It's pretty simple: they don't overcommit and they don't make false promises. They. Say. No. Because it's the brave thing to do. And they utilize the RSVP instead of shading out (rude). Self assured girls understand that certain obligations are necessary, but they don't try to attend/host/create/chair/be everything. They know better. Too many commitments lead to shady exits or complete burnout. And, if FOMO strikes later, they can channel that energy into saying yes next time.

3. They listen.
While self-assured girls trust their own judgment, they also are secure enough to listen to others' opinions. Now, they won't necessarily like what they hear all the time, but listening is the highest form of respect. If they ask a question, they know better than to ignore the answer. Confident girls can blend their own ideas with those of others, or respectfully choose to decline enacting a suggestion after genuinely listening to its pros and cons. While talking may seem like a trait of confidence, don't let silence fool you. Confidence is all about the ears, my friends.

4. They admit their flaws.
No one is perfect (except Blush). And as much as we hear this cliche, lots of us do not take it to heart. Self-assured girls not only admit their imperfections, they applaud them. They know where their strengths lie, where they can improve, and when to get the heck outta dodge and let others take the lead. Trying to be perfect at everything is inefficient and pointless, plus perfect people are bor-ring. Confident girls love themselves for who they are, and who they're not.

5. They’re open to love.
Regardless of how brutal or shameful one's romantic past may be, the opportunity for love is never off the table. The reward of romantic connection always out weights the risk of heartbreak, because self-assured girls know they can withstand the wrath of any future rejection. A failed relationship is an opportunity. Self-assured girls reflect on why it didn't survive (he was stupid), work to better their own unfavorable behaviors (ok maybe I told him he was stupid a lot), and then search for a more compatible partner (one that isn't stupid). Kidding! But seriously, confident girls don't let their past hold them back, because they know they are worthy of a great relationship, strong enough to survive if it doesn't work out, and awesome enough to withstand rejection.

6. They ask for help.
So important. They know trying to accomplish everything alone is virtually impossible. Self-assured people don't feel threatened or belittled by seeking help from coaches or counselors. They understand it's beneficial and smart to talk to others about their issues, instead of trying to keep everything together at every moment of every day. As much as confidence is our weapon against doubt, it also needs to be nurtured from an outside source. Our self-assured 'tudes need some love too, ya know, so we must always utilize support.

7. They don’t conform.
Let's just say they left their desire to 'fit in' next to their obnoxious Spice Girls posters and whiney Tamagatchis. Conforming out of the sheer desire to be liked makes about as much sense to them as trying to learn Spanish before a study abroad program in Japan. It's a complete waste of energy and does you zeh-ro good.

Of course, they recognize that not everyone will share the same beliefs, and that's perfectly okay with them. As long as they can do their thang without judgment, it's all good.

8. They own their feelings.
Fighting stinks, but no matter what the circumstance is, confident girls strive to understand their emotions and they own up to them. They understand that hiding anger, sadness, jealousy, or any other bratty feeling only makes it worse. Self-assured girls take the opportunity to express themselves without blaming others, and confirm that they are understood. They return the favor by listening to the other side, and then, they ride off into the sunset with their homies and get ice cream because it's all good now.

9. They release guilt.
Guilt is supposed to be a temporary emotion. It pushes you to understand your actions, act to correct the mistake, and apologize. But that's it. Guilt is not meant to wreak havoc on our emotional foundation. The longer it sits, the more it festers. Plus it will single handedly destroy any confidence or self-love we have worked so hard for! I mean, y'all should know this by now, considering what the wretched emotion did to that poor viral dog. So much guilt. So. Much.

10. They support others.
Self-assured girls love watching their friends soar. Cheering on others' businesses, relationships, and successes does not impede on any of our own accomplishments; it highlights them. They understand there is zero reason not to encourage, help, or support others. Having a strong and successful network is a pretty smart move–guilty by association, right?–so confident girls do all they can to help their girls become stronger. High fives all 'round. TC mark

Everything Your Extroverted Friends Want You To Know (But Will Probably Never Tell You)

Posted: 13 Aug 2016 03:15 PM PDT

1. We are NOT hitting on you. Chill out.

The great thing about being extroverted is that we really do like to socialize with everybody. The not so great (or maybe also really great) part about being extroverted is that we don't take gender into account.

Basically, if we ask if anyone is sitting next to you, we aren't doing that coy flirtatious bit. We just want to sit down. Or, if you down your last sip of {insert age appropriate drink here}, buying you a refill doesn't mean we're trying to date you. We just have good manners. (Oh, stawp!) And last but not least, if we ask for your name, we are not hitting on you. Believe me, you'll know when we hit on you. And you will like it.

It hurts our feelings when we get in trouble for being disrespectful of romantic boundaries that aren't even on our radar. We're totally fine if you're in a relationship, we just got bored and wanted to talk to somebody. Don't get mad at us! Enjoy our gregarious nature and be open to the possibility that you might be making the coolest friend ever! (ME!)

2. We don’t always want to talk.

Being extroverted doesn't necessarily mean talking all the time.

A lot of us prefer observing or taking in information instead of gabbing to our neighbors. Extroverts by definition get a spike in energy from being around others–and that can come in many different forms. We like to be in packed restaurants on quiet dates, crowded parties while people watching, and busy work spaces for observing successful mentors. Talking isn't always required, even if it's always expected.

No. I'm just doing something else other than entertaining you.

My favorite example lies in one of my most extroverted friends. She continuously goes to a 7 a.m. breakfast club even though she can't formulate words before 10 a.m. So…why does she go? Networking, learning, being around other humans…ya know. Luckily, her friends are ok with her listening and chugging coffee.

3. Sometimes we word vomit.

So…sometimes…we do like to talk. And when that happens, we occasionally blurt stuff out. The wrong stuff. And we're really sorry. It's not like we sat there for five minutes carefully selecting every word we threw out of our mouths. Believe me, if that were the case, we'd become about as efficient as Kevin.

Don't take it personally. If we accidentally hurt your feelings, please, please, PLEASE be quick to forgive. What we lack in cautious conversation we totally make up for in and party invites & good moods.

4. We’re not clingy, we just don’t like being alone.

{Begin rant}

Ok, no more name calling, guys. Just because we actually take initiative to call our friends on Sunday nights doesn't mean we are desperate. Maybe not everybody wants to come over and watch Game of Thrones, but admit it: it's way more fun to watch it with other GOT nerds. I mean, who else is going to provide a night full of evil fantasy bliss topped off with Red and Blood (Ginger)Ale? Your friendly neighborhood Extrovert. That's who. So let's dispose of that ugly label just because we're planning your social agenda. YOU'RE WELCOME IN ADVANCE.

{End rant}.

5. We are people pleasers.

We know that you feel awkward around so-and-so and it's unfortunate that you and what's-her-face don't quite get along…but you'll live. We like to include everyone! The more, the merrier. Social discord isn't our thing, and we don't want to be in the middle of it. Yes, we have the gift of gab, but we also have the gift of getting along with a lot of people. Our energy comes from being around others. It's only natural that we would see the good in them and want them around! So…if we have any contact with anyone in the whole wide world, they're probably getting an invite to tonight's plans.

You'll have to get over the fact that so-and-so and what's-her-face will probably be there. If you want to leave others out, then you have a party. It just won't be as fun as ours.

6. Please stop calling us bossy.

Shoutout to the ladies out there who totally get where our homegirl Sandberg is coming from. Hashtag banbossy. We have ALL been called bossy at one point or another. I mean, at this point I can't even stand Kelis, and it really isn't even her fault. And the worst part is, there's nothing to be ashamed of! We're loud, we're proud, but mostly, we're dang good at getting stuff done. Like, just because Introverts won't speak up during group projects doesn't mean we're bossy. Or…maybe we are bossy. Whatever. I think we're just AWESOME. Ok, so what's the take home message? Only WE can call ourselves bossy. Deal.

7. You’re not deeper than us just because you’re introverted.

Just because we're not Introverted doesn't mean we're not intellectual or mature. We just have different skill sets. Introverts might typically be better writers, designers, or analysts, but Extroverts can execute. We are the leaders, the CEOs, and the advocates. We get out there and make things happen. You know, we get stuff done.

Naturally there are times when we yearn for the ability to sit at home and just write up that report–but we would rather be in the meeting hashing out the terms. For instance, an Introvert is ghost writing this blog because the Extrovert is running around town doing things. Does that sound like a dumb person to you? Negative, Ghost-writer. (Get it?)

Instead of trying to get us to be something we're not, let us do what we're awesome at: getting people together. And we'll even sing while doing it.

Remember, we don't care if you're Introverted or Extroverted, we just care that you're reading this. Seriously. TC mark

If I Die While Traveling, I Would Die Happy

Posted: 13 Aug 2016 02:15 PM PDT

 Ryan Moreno
Ryan Moreno

In the near future I have plans to finally visit the Middle East. Like any adventure I embark on, my family and friends  express their worry for my safety. I've come to accept this as part of the travel-lifestyle package because usually it's with good intent.

However, lately it's been taken to a whole other level based on the region of the world I'll be traveling to. I've had people straight up tell me not to go, and that it's not worth my life because some sort of life threatening event is "imminent".

On one hand I appreciate the concern. On the other hand I just want to spew statistics and facts on the real risks of travel and how mass media shows only a fraction of the truth and should be taken with a few hundred grains of salt.

But recently I thought, Well… I may actually die while out traveling. However unlikely and annoying it is to be told this, it is a real possibility. And of course it's morbid to talk about death, especially your own—but considering my longevity is the thing I'm asked about most, I think it's time to address it.

So, if you are one of those people who thinks that by traveling I am risking my life, I need you to know something.

It's okay.

Plenty of insane things happen when you venture to a new place. I could be in a skydiving accident, or I could break my neck falling out of a tree in the Amazon. I could have a heart attack from being too excited about authentic Italian pasta (this the most likely, honestly). Terrorist attack or tuk-tuk accident, death is a  reality of life.

You may think by traveling I'm purposely putting myself in harm’s way, but to me I'm living my daily life. Each week your prerogative may be to walk your dog, go to work, and meet for coffee with your friends. Mine just happens to be researching countries, planning trips, and  going experiencing things I never dreamed of. Travel is my day to day, I don't see it as anything out of the norm or particularly life-threatening.

The fact is, a person is statistically more likely to be killed in a car crash getting that morning coffee than someone is to be killed in a plane crash or terrorist attack.

Yet you don't get "Please don't drive to work, it's not worth your life!" texts every day (because media doesn't sensationalize or politicize car crashes cough cough).

I'm not saying I'm traveling with the intent of dying in a blaze of glory. But if I had to choose between "risking my life" by having adventures across the world, and living a "safe" life where I have to sleep every night wondering if it was worth not taking the risk… Well I think you already know my choice.

Of course I say this as a single woman with no children, whose parents are equally addicted to travel and very supportive of it. If I start a family I may reconsider traveling as much or to certain places. Though I hope that future family is equally as empowered to travel with me, because by just traveling you have the opportunity to learn and also give so much back.

But for now, you should know—if I do die while out on an adventure, don't cry for me! Because honestly, it makes for a great story to tell, right?

 I hope I go out feeling as Benedict Cumberbatch did when he said,

"I've seen and swam and climbed and lived and driven and filmed. Should it all end tomorrow, I can definitely say there would be no regrets. I am very lucky, and I know it. I really have lived 5,000 times over."

Or how at least how MIA felt when she said,

"Live fast, die young, bad girls do it well." TC mark

Maybe Your 20s Are About Being Selfish, And Maybe That’s Perfectly Okay

Posted: 13 Aug 2016 01:15 PM PDT


Lately I've been noticing how my thoughts and actions differ from most others. Of course, the older you get, the more you learn about yourself. This is true for myself as of late, especially; constantly feeling like I'm on a different page than everyone else. Sure, I like to do what every 24 year old does, but maybe just a little less than the usual ones.

I hate feeling the pressure of having to do something. By this I mean any pressure. Making "plans" and following through has become my biggest challenge. I love being a productive person. Upon making many to-do lists and planning everything out a week in advance, I've started to realize that no longer works for me, or anyone else because I end up cancelling plans. Knowing I'm living by a schedule, having to do something, makes me not want to do it that much more. So. Much. Pressure.

I want to do what I want to do when I want to do it.

Most people seem to find this difficult to accept, and I totally understand that. I feel like everyone around me is constantly going out, hanging with friends, searching for a relationship. This overwhelms me. I used to know how it was to be like that. Then something changed, apparently.

I no longer feel the need to have someone else to make me happy. I am happy.

I don't find happiness relying on others any longer. I can't say when it happened, but it did.

Everyone knows that feeling all too well. I remember a past breakup, years ago, that had me in tears for hours because I thought I needed that person. What a strange thought that is to me now. Now the most difficult part is explaining this to other people. People like to feel needed. And I can no longer give them that.

I never want to wake up and need something. I want to always be able to leave my job tomorrow, if I wanted to. I want to be able to book a ticket on the next flight to another country in a matter of hours. Anything that disables me from doing so seems unnecessary. The feeling of being restrained is suffocating.

It is hard to explain this to the important people in your life. And I have the most amazing people in my life. Relationships aren't for me, not at the moment at least, and that's a tough one to explain.

Maybe your 20s are your selfish years, maybe something or someone will hold me down some day, but for now being a free spirit is who I am.

People will understand your choices because they care about you, accept you, and love you. Anyone else just doesn't need to be in your life. TC mark

These Are The 7 Deadly Guys You Date Before Finding ‘The One’

Posted: 13 Aug 2016 12:45 PM PDT


Pride. Envy. Gluttony. Lust. Anger. Greed. Sloth.

These are the seven deadly sins, scary. But not nearly as scary as the seven deadly types of guys you are bound to encounter in your late teens and early twenties. The Troublemaker. The Manchild. The Player. The Toxic Guy. The Ultimate Fuckboy. The Boy That Loves Games. Mr. Right But Wrong For You.

1. The Troublemaker

This guy is as smooth as they come. He will constantly keep you guessing. He is usually the center of drama and gets a rise out of instigating anything out of anyone. He’s the guy that your parents don’t want you to see which in turn makes you want to see him more. Deep down he has a heart of gold but the drama is too thrilling for him. More thrilling than you or a relationship.

Red Flags

  • Sweet talker
  • Instigator
  • Drama-queen
  • Rule-breaker
  • Outlaw

2. The Manchild

This guy is a baby, a little bitchass at the end of the day. He is so unsure of himself. He attempts to appear cocky but his childish behavior shines through. He is confusing and unpredictable. Things will never actually go anywhere with this guy because he doesn’t have the balls to take it somewhere real.

Red Flags

  • Nervous
  • Unsure of himself
  • Childish
  • Insecure

3. The Player

This guy is full of shit and you’ll realize that early on. Yet you ignore it because he is really good at manipulating people. There is an excuse for every questionable action. Lies are very easy for him to tell. He will frequently communicate with you through text so he stays in your mind. He will probably hook up with one of your friends, soon to be ex-friends.

Red Flags

  • Frequent texter
  • Cocky
  • Plays the victim
  • Frequent liar
  • Manipulative

4. The Toxic Guy

Unfortunately a lot of us at one time or another find ourselves in a toxic relationship. You will likely get along with this guy and have somewhat similar personalities. Too similar. You will know each other very well for a long period of time. You will find yourself constantly fighting with a growing addiction to the drama. Screaming and yelling will become the norm as you start to lose yourself. No matter how good it can be at times, the bad is really fucking bad. Too bad.

Red Flags

  • Constant arguments
  • A lot of drama
  • Constant tears
  • Yelling
  • Screaming

5. The Ultimate Fuckboy

Let’s remember fuckboys are boys, not men. This boy is going to be confident AF and not have a care in the world. FYI not having a care in the world, that includes you. He will not care about you. He’s got his own fuckboy shit going on that made him a fuckboy in the first place. You aren’t going to change that no matter how many times you blow him. The fuckboy is smart and knows how to get what he wants. You’ll enjoy having sex with the fuckboy but that will be the entirety of your “relationship” if you are honest with yourself. At the end of your “fling” the fuckboy will stop talking to you. There will be no explanation. You may be upset but the hard truth is he doesn’t care. He didn’t get hurt. There will likely be no closure.

Red Flags

  • Charming
  • Confident
  • Rude
  • Pretentious AF
  • Oblivious

6. The Boy That Loves Games

This guy will make it seem like he’s making an effort. He will totally mindfuck you on a regular basis. He makes just enough effort to stay in the picture, but not quite enough effort to have anything real with you.

Red Flags

  • Never follows through with plans
  • Disappears then reappears like clockwork
  • Manipulative
  • Immature

7. Mr. Right But Wrong For You

This guy will be a breath of fresh air. At first you will feel a sense of hope. Eventually that will die out as you realize their is no real spark there. He will have everything you need but not everything you want. He will not be your first choice.

Red Flags

  • No chemistry
  • Overcompensates TC mark